‘Her Dying Gasp”
Mack spit on the corpse of the wild-eyed old woman at his feet. She shouldn’t have been here in this decrepit house, hadn’t been when he hid last night. The townspeople called her a witch, but her witchery didn’t save her from the deadly impact of his satchel, heavy with his haul of grubby bills and shabby jewelry.
He could still hear her dying gasp, a cry like a branch dragged over rock…pleading…commanding–
Movement on his right. Another intruder? No, something else. Large. A tree, one that was yards from the house. Now close. Now reaching. Grabbing.
Friday Fiction picked up this week from Darleen at protein wisdom, Gator from BigGator5.net, Smitty at The Other McCain, and Carrie at CarrieAisling. Tania Gail is in with an excellent story inspired by last week’s photo.
Matthew at Old Line Elephant has published the newest installment of his serial story “Through the Mirror”.
Sorry for the delay this week. I couldn’t buy a quiet couple of hours to write during normal hours and by the time the quiet time did come around, I was too wiped out to string together any number of creative thoughts. I’ll hit the mark again next week, caterwauling world-permitting.